The Storage Room
by GremlinGirl
Summary: America convinces Britain to help him clean out his storage room. What could possibly go wrong? No pairings or anything like that. First fanfiction.


The day was perfect. He was sitting on a bench, quietly enjoying the scenery while reading a good book. Britain was quite happy to be exactly where he was, doing exactly what he was doing. He saw no need to change anything. No, the day was perfect just as it was.

Well, it was until that idiot America showed up and ruined it. He heard him before he actually saw him, which was normally the case with the git.

"Yo! Britain, dude!" America yelled out shattering the perfectly quiet afternoon.

With a sigh, Britain slowly closed his book and looked over to his left to see the man running up from across the park. He waited until he had made his way to the bench and taken a seat beside the other.

"Whatcha doing here, man?" the excited man huffed, still out of breath from running.

"Well, I was reading a very nice book until I was rudely interrupted." Britain replied, one thick eyebrow twitching in frustration.

"Aw come on. Ya can't sit around reading all day." America complained.

"Maybe you can't," the annoyed British nation said. "But I have absolutely no qualms with it."

"Whatever." the other blew him off. "Anyway since you're not doing anything important wanna come to my place for a bit?"

"No." Britain immediately shut him down and started to open his book again.

"Please, dude!" the American begged fixing the elder with his best puppy dog face. "I need your help."

Another sigh escaped the Brit's lips. "With what?" he asked instantly regretting it.

"Well, you see I have this storage room with all this useless stuff in it. Most of which you gave me a long time ago by the way."

"And?"

"I'm cleaning it out. To make room for more junk that's likely to come in the near future."

"Okay why don't you skip to the part that actually concerns me." the agitated British man suggested trying to keep his short temper in check.

"Oh. Well I didn't want to just throw it all away so I thought you might like to have some of it back."

"There's a reason I gave it to you. Why would I want it back?"

America shrugged.

Britain sighed. "Fine, I'll come by tonight to see if there's anything useful."

"Really?! Thanks, dude!" With that the American got up and ran off leaving the ruffled Brit sitting on the bench alone.

* * *

Later that night, Britain walked up America's drive way and knocked on the door of the large house. After a few second the door opened to reveal the excited blonde haired man.

"You actually came!" he sounded quite surprised.

"I said I would didn't I?" The shorter man walked past him into the house and looked around. "Don't you ever clean this place?"

"It's only the front hallway!" the American protested receiving nothing but an eye roll from the other. "Come on... I'll show you the storage room.

Britain allowed himself to be led through the house and to a small door. He watched uninterested as America reached into hsi pocket and pulling out the key. Unlocking the door, the taller stepped aside for Britain to walk in the room. Unthinkingly, America laid the key on a small table by the door and stepped in closing the door behing him.

This all went unobserved by the older nation as he stared in disgust at the sight before him. Boxed piled everywhere. Random objects strewn to random placed in the room. No organization at all. Complete chaos. Without even realizing it, Britain had let his jaw drop and was now still standing there with it hanging open.

"Pretty impressive, huh?" America asked sounding smug.

The shorter Brit turned a glare up to him. "Impressive? It's a complete disgrace. Did you just throw all this stuff in her randomly?"

"Actually yes." America said shrinking back a bit.

"Did it ever come to mind to organize it?"

America answered with a shake of his head.

"Well, I'm not going through all this garbage. You're on your own." Britain stated before walking toward the door.

"No, wait! You said you'd help!" America pleaded.

"That was before I saw the extent of the damage." Britain reached for the handle and turned it. Nothing happend. He tried it again. And again, panicking a bit. "America the door is locked!"

"What?" aske the other man. "That's not possible." He walked over and pushed Britain out of the way to try the door himself. Again the door didn't budge. "Oh no..."

"You idiot!" the Brit shouted. His short fuse had just burnt out causing him to explode. "You locked us in you're storage room!"

"Uh..." America started but decided against saying anything else.

Meanwhile, the Brit's temper raged on as an endless string of curses left his lips. After several minutes, he stopped and just glared. Finally, he asked, "How do we get out of here?"

America looked around thinking about the question. "Maybe we could find something in here to ram the door in with."

"Fine. I don't see any better plans on the horizon anyway."

With that being said, the pair went into action to find something that could knock down a door. Moving aside some worthless items, Britain noticed an odd sight. Several shipping packages addressed to America from himself. Picking one up, he tore it open to find a multitude of scones inside. Upon further inspection he realized that all the packages contained the same thing. His scones that he had toiled to make and send to America.

"Why do you have a million scones in here?" Britain asked the American who wasn't paying any attention to him.

Without looking at him, and continuing to look for a makeshift battering ram, he answered, "Because you keep sending them to me."

That caught the other off guard and he simply stared at the other, his anger slowly rising. "You were supposed to eat them, not store them!" he finally shouted.

"But they're disgusting." America finally looked at him, an innocently confused expression on his face.

This ticked Britain off and instead of replying he threw one of the scones at the other.

"Ow!" the American yelled taking a step back. "Don't do that! Those things are as hard as rocks!"

"I know! That's why I threw it!" The Brit then commenced to throwing a few more. America usely tried to defend himself from the onslaught of scones. It took nearly an hour for Britain to calm down, and that was mostly attributed to the fact he ran out of scones to throw.

Somewhere in the middle of the scone battle, America had picked up a trash can lid and was using it to sheild himself. Sighing he lowered it, and stared over at the other country. Britain also sighed and threw the last box he had to the side.

"What good is fighting going to do us?" Britain asked.

"None. But you're the one who started it."

"I did not! You're the one who put the scones in here."

"That didn't mean you had to throw them at me!"

At that second, the door swung open. Both of the arguing men looked over at the confused Canadian.

"Canada!" they both shouted in relief.

"What are you two doing in there?" Canada asked as he let the others out.

"America locked us in." Britain complained. "Thank you by the way. How'd you know we were in there."

"I heard you fighting." the boy answered shyly.

America smiled. "Well you're big mouth must be worth something then Birtain."

"Shut up." the other said with a sharp glare directed at the American.

And with that, the three went their separate ways. Britain went home and finally read the rest of his book.


End file.
